Married to Sherlock Holmes?
by lotrhobbitsherlock
Summary: When Bethany Westbay goes to Sherlock Holmes for help; she never imagined by a strange turn of events that she'd end up married to him. (Sherlock/OC) *Rated 'M' do to some adult content (Sex).* *I do not own the name nor any part of "Sherlock/Sherlock Holmes* *This story is co-written by inulover22 Please leave a review so we can know if you like the story so far 3
1. Chapter 1

***This first Chapter is a shorter than the rest will be, but it's basically the introduction into the Story, and just because this is set in Modern times doesn't mean you necessarily have to picture Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. You can picture whoever you want, and this is why I used Anime drawings instead of actual actors if any of you were wondering. I do this to please all Sherlock Holmes fans, whom may read this, and is not necessarily in the Sherlock fandom. ***

 **.**

"Will you help me Mr. Holmes?" I asked after I told him my story. My brother had gone missing, and I was afraid he got involved in something he shouldn't have. Mr. Holmes looked at me as if my face had the answer to my own question. "Is something the matter?" I asked.

"No, I'm just trying to figure out why you went to me instead of the police." He answered.

"Well he isn't in London, nor England for that matter. He had to take a trip to France for his business about a month ago. It is normal for him to be gone for lengths of time, but we haven't heard a word from him when we normally hear from at least once during the day. We haven't heard anything in a week and a half."

"Even then the Scotland Yard can contact the French police." Dr. Watson said.

"Yes, but you two seemed more reliable." I told.

"You said your brother went to France for business; what kind of business was he in?" Mr. Holmes asked.

"I'm not sure. He never talked about it much… That is why I'm fearing the worse. I don't know if he got himself involved with people he shouldn't have." I explained.

"Interesting." Mr. Holmes was silent again as he looked at me. "Well, shall we get going?" He said standing up.

"Going? Going where?" Dr. Watson asked.

"To France of course, where else?" Mr. Holmes disappeared into his room.

I gave a confused look to Dr. Watson to which he returned. "So, I'm guessing we're taking the case." Dr. Watson mumbled.

Mr. Holmes came out with his coat on and a suitcase in his hand. "John, what are you just sitting there for? Go get packed. Miss Westbay, we'll stop at your flat on the way to the airport." He told me.

"Mr. Holmes-" I started.

"Sherlock, please." He corrected me.

"Sherlock," I said with his correction, "Thank you, but I didn't expect you to get up and just go to Paris." I told.

"How will I solve the case if we are not in the place where your brother disappeared?" He questions and I gave a soft smile.

"Thank you." I said again.

"Naturally, now John go pack for a few days." Sherlock told him.

John sighed and stood up. "What am I supposed to tell Mary?" He asked.

"I don't see why she couldn't come with us naturally. She's no bother to me." Sherlock told him.

"Tell her I'm taking her to Paris." John mumbled as he went to leave. "I'll meet you two at the airport." John said, descending the stairs and leaving out the door. I know he used to live here with Sherlock, but since he got married it only makes sense that he would move out.

"Well, Miss Westbay, we'll stop by your flat."

"Alright, and you can call me Bethany." I told him as he led me out to a taxi.

.

We got to my flat, and I nearly screamed when I saw a person digging in my cabinets. "Mother!" I said. She lives two hours from here, what on earth is she here for?

"Oh, hello dear!" She greeted and kissed my cheek. She smiled at Sherlock, but didn't exactly know how to greet him. "I was in the city so I stopped by."

"It would appear so…." I mumbled. "I hate to say this mother, but we're about to leave. We just stopped by to pick up my things." I told her.

"Where are you off to?" She asked.

I didn't want to tell her that I was going to look for my brother, she would freak out. I didn't want to lie to her either. "We're going to France." I simply told her.

"France? What on earth are you going there for?"

"Oh-um…" I didn't know how to answer her.

"Honeymoon." Sherlock suddenly said. "For a honeymoon." WHAT?! What the hell is wrong with him?! This is my mother so why would she believe we got married without telling her?!

"Honeymoon!" She shrieked. "You two got married?!"

"Um…" I hid my left hand behind my back so she wouldn't see that there was no ring, and I noticed Sherlock did the same.

"Are you pregnant?!" She said, anger in her voice, and sending a glare to Sherlock.

"No!" I quickly said. "I'm not pregnant Mum."

"Why on earth would you get married and not tell me? And even then, that you got engaged." She wasn't yelling surprisingly.

"It um…" I looked to Sherlock for help, especially considering he got us into this mess.

"My apologies ma'am." He quickly said. "That was my idea. You see, I'm quite popular with the media, so I didn't want anything getting out until after we got married. Bethany wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to risk it." He explained. That's right… Sherlock is basically a celebrity now with how well known he is.

My mother looked at him for a second then finally nodded with a sigh. "I can understand that." She finally said. Wait… Really? "I'm not happy about it, but I can understand it." She finally gave us a soft smile. "Well, you two have fun. I won't keep you."

My mother kissed me goodbye and left. I waited until I heard the elevator at the end of the hall ding before I decided to speak. "Honeymoon?!" I yelled at him.

"What other reason would we be going to France together?" Sherlock asked, not fazed at all by my anger.

I was about to yell at him again, but I was at a loss for words. I thought about it, and he was right; there was no other reason that came to mind of why we would be going to France together. "So, we have to pretend to be married?" I asked.

"Naturally, though I doubt it's a big deal." He told me.

"My mother is rather a gossip, so word might get out that the 'great Sherlock Holmes' got married." I said.

"I doubt it would be a big problem." He said, looking down to his phone and texting someone. "Now go pack."

I gave out an agitated sigh and left to my room to pack.

.

We got to the airport to see John and a blonde woman, whom I guess was Mary, waiting for us. "So, you're married now?" John asked as we approached them.

"What?" I asked. There is no way people know about that already.

John turned his phone around and showed us a page with the top reading 'Sherlock Holmes is Married?!'.

"Wow, that was under an hour. That's a new record." Sherlock said calmly.

"How are you so calm about this?!" I asked.

"Is there a point to getting all worked up about it?" He asked, again calmly.

"Yes!" I shouted, making a few heads turn our way. "Yes…" I repeated in a lower voice.

"And that reasoning being?" How is this man so calm right now? I'm starting to question if he's human or not.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Okay, so basically all of Europe knows or will know that we are apparently married, so how are we supposed to pull that off when we don't have rings or anything of that sort?" I asked.

Sherlock just held out his hand to John who placed two gold rings in his hand. "Size six right?" He asked, handing me the smaller one.

If looks could kill, I'm sure Sherlock would be dead right now. "Six and a half, actually." I grumbled, grabbing the ring.

"Hmm, no six." He simply said, and I hated to say the ring fit perfectly.

"Wait, so you just spent who knows how much on rings for a fake marriage?" I asked.

"Of course not. The man owes me a favor, and we're simply borrowing." He said. "And our flight leaves soon, so shall we go?" Sherlock took my bag from me for him to carry and started walking towards the proper gate.

"Is this man for real?" I asked, mainly just as a thought.

"Welcome to my world." John told me.

"I'm surprised he actually had the curtesy to take your bag Bethany." Mary said with a laugh.

"Eh, he's learning." John said, grabbing Mary's hand and followed towards where Sherlock left.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat next to Sherlock on the plane, John and Mary sat across the aisle from us. As the plane took off, my curiosity got the better of me. I turned towards Sherlock and asked, "Okay, I have to know. How in the world did you know I was a size six?"

"That's why our fake marriage is all over the news." He said as he looked to his phone. "And I didn't know, I observed."

"Oh, I'm sorry 'you observed'." I rubbed my eyes in annoyance.

When I looked up, I saw Mary smiling at me. "Don't worry sweetie, he is always like this, but he does have a point. Your 'marriage' wouldn't be everywhere if he wasn't good at what he does. However, because you are his wife, feel free to slap him when he gets too bad."

I couldn't help but smile at Mary who was trying to lighten my mood. Suddenly, my phone buzzed signaling that I received a text. Taking out my phone, I saw that the text was from my father. I sighed, opening it up and frowning when I read it. 'Beth, I want to talk with this husband of yours that you apparently married and didn't bother to tell us.' It said.

 _Oh great, now I need to deal with my father as well._

"Your father wants to talk to me?" Sherlock asked, but it sounded more of a statement.

"Yes… How did you know?"

"Your entire body sunk as you read a text from him… And I can read sideways, upside down, and just about any other way possible."

"Remind me not to try to hide anything from you." I said with a small laugh.

"It doesn't work often." He said smugly.

"You're quite confident aren't you." I looked to him.

"When you're me you can be."

I frowned my brows. I don't think he meant that to be rude, but that's how it came across. "You know, my impression of you is a lot different from when we first met." I told him.

"Let me guess, when we first met you thought that I was a strange man who had funny hair, and now you're thinking I'm a psychotic being who's a conceded prick."

"No." I said, giving him a confused look. "That's not it at all."

"That's what everyone else's impression of me is."

"Well, I'm different I guess." I gave him a smile that he didn't return. "My first impression what that you were a very handsome, smart man." I told him. "And now… I still think you're a very handsome, smart man, but also one that can be rude, has somewhat outrageous ideas, and yes, can be a bit conceded at times." I giggled at little at my description. "But also, a sweet man who is willing to help, even if it's just because my case wasn't boring."

"Okay," I heard John say as he leaned over a bit. "Hate to break up this touching moment, but did you just call Sherlock sweet? As in nice?"

"Yes? What's wrong with that?" I asked him.

John gave me a blank expression for a few moments before sitting properly in his seat again. "Nothing I'm just… surprised, I guess, you would say."

I smiled some at John's statement. "How long have you two known each other?" I asked.

"Too long." John said, but in a joking manner.

"I'd say your life wouldn't be better without me in it." Sherlock said, and I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Excuse me?" Mary said, looking over.

"Me and Mary in it." Sherlock corrected.

"Thank you." Marry said and went back to reading what was on her phone.

I full out laughed as I watched and listened to the three of them interact with one another. "I enjoy being around you all. It's never boring, and it's quite humorous."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "Was that intended to be a joke?"

I frowned at the insult, "No, I was being sincere."

John chucked and looked at me, "Bethany, don't be offended. Sherlock doesn't exactly know the difference between sincerity and sarcasm."

An angered expression appeared on Sherlock's face as he looked at John, "I know the difference John. She was… different is all."

John smiled before leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, that's the reason why."

I smiled and thought to myself, _this should be an interesting trip._

.

The plane finally landed, and we grabbed our bags. "Maybe if we tell people you're on your honeymoon, we won't have to pay for this hotel." Mary said, but she seemed to be joking.

"You're on your honeymoon?" A flight attendant asked, her French accent coming in clear. "Why, you're Sherlock Holmes!" She cheered a little too loud and now everyone was looking. "so, it is true! You did get married."

"I say, we'll meet you two at the hotel." John told us, clearly wanting to avoid the public.

"Oh!" The girl cheered. "And you're Dr. Watson!"

"Too late." Sherlock mumbled to him.

A couple flashes were pointed our way, and there was no use trying to hide our fake marriage now… Now people will know my face as well. John sighed, clearly annoyed, as he turned towards Mary, "Mary, you and Bethany go to the hotel. We'll deal with them."

Mary simply nodded, kissing him, before turning towards me, "Come on Bethany, let's sneak out of here before they have a chance to really get their hands on you." I quickly followed after Mary, and we left the boys to the crowd that was slowly filling in around them.

.

Mary and I sat in the lobby, waiting for the boys, whom seemed like they were taking forever. Mary, her patience wearing thin, mumbled under her breath, "If they're not here in five minutes, I'm using John's card and he's taking us shopping." But, as if on cue, Sherlock and John walked through the door. "Damn it, I kind of wanted new shoes." She said, making me laugh.

"It's about time." I said standing up.

"Sherlock just lied through his teeth to the entire continent of Europe." John told us.

Concern took over my whole being as I looked towards Sherlock, "What did you tell them?" I asked.

"What we told your mother." He told me nonchalantly.

"I wager you're going to be on the news tomorrow." John mumbled, grabbing Sherlock's arm to drag him to the receptionist. Mary patted my shoulder sympathetically while we walked up to the counter.

"You're Sherlock Holmes!" The lady at the counter said, and surprisingly she had a British accent rather than a French one. "Congratulations sir." The lady gave John and Sherlock two keys to two different rooms. We need three rooms, but I couldn't think of a reason why two 'married couples' would need three rooms. Sherlock and I are technically married in the media's eyes.

"I could have paid." I told them as we started to walk down the hallway. "You're here because of me anyway."

"It actually wasn't that much. You and Sherlock got a honeymoon discount." John informed. "Which I'm thankful for because I ended up paying for it." He sent Sherlock a quick glare before entering a room.

"You and John will share a room." Mary told Sherlock. "You two aren't even remotely together, so it only seems right."

I felt bad as she said this. _Wouldn't she rather stay with John?_ "Mary, it's quite alright. I can make a cot on the floor to sleep."

"That's even worse!" Mary shrieked. "If anything, Sherlock would be the one sleeping on the floor."

John stuck his head out of the room after hearing us. "Don't bother arguing with her, you won't win." John sighed, which he seemed to do a lot of, and grumbled, "Sherlock just get in here."

Mary looked as if she was holding back a laugh, "You lived with him, I'm sure you can share a room." She told her husband.

John clicked his tongue before speaking. "I wouldn't count on it."

Mary couldn't help but chuckle as John closed the door. "Don't worry. They won't kill each other." She said as we went into our own room.

The room was nice. It had a sofa against the far wall, French doors next to it to lead to a balcony. They had a small kitchenette, a big bathroom, and a king-sized bed in the middle. "Well," Mary said as she put her bag down. "There's no point in wasting time; might as well go look for your brother."

After we loaded our belongings in our rooms, we began to search around the city of Paris, "The only thing I know about what my brother does is that he works with war manufacturing companies. Maybe it will help to mention that James, my brother, has a dragon tattoo around his wrist. It might help to describe him to someone."

"Yes, that would be beneficial." Sherlock commented thoughtfully.

John looked at Sherlock, confusion clearly on his face, "People. You are going to go and talk to people."

Sherlock glanced towards John before saying, "I have to start somewhere."

"I don't even know where to start looking." John commented.

"That's easy. Your brother was a business man dealing with war manufacturing. I'd say we start by talking to a few of those companies." Sherlock said.

.

"No, never heard of anyone with the last name Westbay." Just like the last six companies, this company said the same thing. "But," The man continued. "I do know someone that fits that description." He continued. "If you wouldn't have mentioned that he had a tattoo on his wrist, I wouldn't be able to help." The man started rummaging through his papers. "He came in two days ago and gave me these."

The man handed the papers to Sherlock. I moved to look alongside Sherlock, trying to study the paper's but I didn't understand any of it. It looked to be plans of some sort with drawings and codes, but nothing a normal person without training could understand.

"What are these?" I asked.

"Top secret." The man answered. "I can hardly understand them."

"And you are willingly showing us?" John asked.

"Well, I say top secret only because he wrote it on the paper. It doesn't seem to be anything special to me, of course I only run the company, I'm not in the government." He answered.

"The man that came in, do you happen to know where he went next?" I asked.

"Yes, I happened to see him at the Hôtel du Louvre." He told us.

"Thank you." Sherlock quickly said, giving the man the papers back, and leaving without a word.

"Um, okay, I guess we're leaving." John mumbled, and we all followed Sherlock. "I'm guessing we are heading to Hôtel du Louvre." John stated.

"Obviously," Sherlock said. "I don't think we'll find him there, but we might find out where he went."

"You don't think we'll find him?" I asked.

"Absolutely not. With the plans I just looked at, there is no way he will stay in one spot." Sherlock told. "John, did you notice what those plans read?"

"Yes, it was plans to make a stronger atomic bomb." John stated.

"What?! What would James have to do with that? And why would he be giving it to a random company?"

"One of two things," Sherlock stated. "That company is more than what it appears, or they are fake plans trying to throw someone off the scent."

"What would my brother be doing that for?"

"Several things, but I doubt you would like any of my reasoning's."

"Just keep them to yourself then…" I mumbled. _I know my brother isn't a bad person, so what is he up to?_

.

We got to the hotel my brother was supposed to be at, only to find out nothing. "Now what?!" I said in annoyance as we walked out the hotel. "We have nothing to go off now!"

"Are you hungry?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

"What?" I looked up at him frustrated. "How can you possibly be thinking about food right now?!"

"Are you hungry?" Sherlock repeated. He seemed to be eyeing the little café right across the street from Hôtel du Louvre. "Let's eat here." He said, heading inside the café without anyone's content.

I watched as Sherlock went into the café. "Is he on to something?" I asked John confused.

"Probably, but it's not like he's going to tell us, so let's just go with it."

We headed inside to see Sherlock already seated, looking out the window. I sat down next to him. "Anyone sitting, or working in this café could see clearly across to the hotel." Sherlock clarified, probably for my sake. "The waitress said she saw your brother get in a cab and head south, and the only reason she noticed when he left was because someone was shouting at him before hand." Sherlock told us. I started to relax now that I knew why he wanted to visit this small café.

"And?" John asked. "Where to go from here?"

"Well, someone reported the man shouting, so the police should know his name and we can go talk to him." Sherlock stated matter of factly. I didn't say anything; I just sat thinking. Who could be yelling at my brother?

We ordered food, but Sherlock didn't eat. He just kept staring out the window. "Aren't you going to eat?" I asked.

"He never does when he's on a case." John told me.

"Well that isn't healthy. At least eat something." I told him, slight concern in my voice. _He needs some energy._

"Do you honestly care?" He asked, still looking out the window.

"Of course," I answered without hesitation. "I am your fake wife, I should be inclined to care."

After a moment, he quietly mumbled, "I suppose so." Suddenly, Sherlock's face lit up as he noticed something, "Time to go."


	3. Chapter 3

We quickly followed after Sherlock as he shot out of the café in hot pursuit of what appeared to be a blonde-haired man in a long brown coat.

John quickened his pace (Mary and I were practically running) in order to speak to Sherlock. "Where, may I ask, are we going?" He asked.

"Hunch," Sherlock simply said, weaving in-between people.

John sighed and slowed his pace back down to match Mary and I. I looked towards John worried, "Hunch?" I asked. "How accurate are his hunches?"

"It's about 75%, 20%." John told me.

Hesitantly, I asked, "Which one is the 75%?"

"He's normally right," both John and Mary answered me.

"That man looked panicked as he left the same hotel your brother was at, and if my hunch is right, then he'll lead us to another lead." Sherlock explained in a rushed tone.

Sherlock was slowly pulling away from us, focused on the blonde-haired man as he was crossing the road. "Sherlock look out!" I called as a car was coming. I jumped forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him back right before the car hit him. "You idiot! You nearly got yourself killed!" I yelled at him, my tone coming out more angered than intended.

"I would have made it if you wouldn't have stopped me!" Sherlock growled at me. He quickly observed his surroundings realizing that the man we were following disappeared from sight. "Now, thanks to you, we lost them."

My anger quickly heightened. Heat spread from my face to my ears, as I glared up at Sherlock, and balled my fist. "If you would have noticed the moving car I wouldn't have had to stop you!"

Sherlock easily retorted back, "I did notice it! I notice everything, thank you very much!"

"Can you stop being stubborn for five seconds and realize that you nearly killed yourself!"

"You need to stop being stubborn and realize I was perfectly fine!"

"Okay newlyweds, calm down." John interrupted us. "You're both stubborn, and it's over and done with, so let it go."

"You're right, this discussion is useless." Sherlock said, sending me a quick glare before he turned and ran off in the direction the blonde man went.

"Wait, Sherlock you idiot!" John called and started jogging towards where Sherlock ran.

"How can he be so senseless!" I shouted in frustration.

Mary chuckled, placing her hand on my shoulder. "He's always like that. You just have to get used to it."

I gave out one last angry huff before John came jogging back to us. "I have no idea where he went." He huffed out. "He took a turn, and when I turned he wasn't there."

"Well, all we can do is go wait for him at the hotel." Mary said.

"Wait…" I said, my anger from earlier slightly subsiding only to be replaced with concern. "We can't just leave him to run around Paris alone."

"He runs off by himself all the time. He'll be back tonight." John told me. "He won't go get himself killed."

"We should really put a tracking device one him." Mary joked as we turned and headed back to our hotel.

.

I sat in our hotel room, flipping through different channels on the telly. Of course, they were all in French, so there was no real point of me to even put the telly on.

"She still seems mad at him." I heard Mary tell John through the wall. These were incredibly thin walls, and you could basically hear everything on the other side if you were leaning against it. "I knew Sherlock was stubborn, but I didn't expect Bethany to equal him on that front." She told him.

"Sherlock probably already forgot about it." John told her.

"Probably. You know, she really did hold her ground. It was sort of refreshing having someone do that to Sherlock." She answered him.

I heard John laugh through the wall, "I found it amusing."

I don't really know why I got so angry at Sherlock. Was I mad at Sherlock, or the fact that he almost got killed? He was probably right and would have been fine, but it's the principle of the thing. I huffed in frustration, throwing my body down on the bed as I did. Why did that get under my skin so much? Though, I suspect he tends to do things that get under a lot of people's skins… My shoulders dropped some as I thought. Maybe I'm overreacting… He told me that a lot of people's first impression of him was that he was a strange, psychotic, rude man, but I didn't think that. I still don't think that. I don't find him strange or psychotic; I find him to be interesting and… different.

At that moment, Mary came into the room and smiled to me. "Do you want to go shopping?" She asked.

"What?" I asked. "Shopping at a time like this?"

"We have to wait for Sherlock anyway, and who knows when he's coming back." She told me. "It will get your mind off things, and I mean, c'mon we're in Paris!"

I sat up on the bed, her proposal peeking my interest, "But it's nearly night."

"So? The city is twice as beautiful at night."

She is right on that part… Why not go out? I was hesitant, but eventually smiled to her, nodding. "But what about John?"

"He's got his blog to do anyway." She told me.

A short time later, Mary and I were seated at a little pastry shop, bags all around us. I think I nearly spent my entire paycheck, but it was fun. "John's going to kill me." Mary joked, looking at all the things she bought. "Most of it is for Rosie anyway."

"Rosie?" I asked.

"Our daughter. She is with Mrs. Hudson right now." She answered me, and smiled. "Once you have a child all your money seems to do a disappearing act." I smiled to Mary. It was obvious how much she loved her daughter at how her face lit up. "I can tell she's going to have John wrapped around her little finger." Mary's smiled grew.

You could tell how much she loved John as well and it made me happy. "Mary, I want you to stay with John. He is your husband after all." I told her. "And what if someone sees that Sherlock and I aren't in the same room when we're supposed to be married?" I explained further. "I can sleep on the couch."

Mary looked at me for a bit, thinking, but I believe she knew I was right. "Very well, but Sherlock can sleep on the couch."

.

I sat on the bed in my pajamas when Sherlock came into the room. He just got back from who knows where. "Did you find anything?" I asked.

"Nope." He said, popping the 'p'. "I couldn't find him again." He let out a sigh, taking off his coat and handing it up. "So, you decided to let Mary stay with John," He stated rather than asked. Mary must have told him already, obviously.

"Oh, yes I did. I figured they would rather stay together naturally, plus we're married in the media's eyes, so it's only fitting for us to share a room." I told him.

Sherlock nodded, taking off his shoes and starting to unbutton his shirt. "I'll sleep on the couch," He told me before grabbing clothes and entering the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I heard the shower start and a belt hitting the floor.

I let out a sigh, thinking, ' _I wonder if Sherlock is still mad at me? I'm not angry anymore… more just worried… I understand why he was mad, but he needs to realize why I was mad as well. He nearly killed himself! Though he claims he was perfectly alright. He's probably right… They don't call him the 'great Sherlock Holmes' for nothing._ '

I heard the shower shut off, and about two minutes later, Sherlock came out. His hair was wet as he pushed it to the side, and I tried to ignore the fact that he smelled really, really good… He wore a grey t-shirt with black flannel pants that hugged his waist. He always wore long sleeve, so it was odd seeing the skin of his arms. He was actually quite toned.

I looked down at my own attire. I was wearing a violet silk nightwear set. The shorts where more like underwear, only covering my bum, and the top was a stringed, lace tank top. In all honesty, it wasn't something to really wear when you're sharing a room with a man you hardly know, but the little that I did know about Sherlock, I figured he wouldn't care… Plus we're technically on our 'honeymoon'.

Sherlock sat next to me on the bed, looking at a newspaper. "Do you know French?" I asked.

"That would be a proper deduction considering the newspaper is in French." He told me.

I scooted closer to Sherlock, looking at the newspaper as well to see if I could read anything. I knew some French, but not really enough to read it or hold up a conversation. I noticed Sherlock glanced at me through the corner of his eye, and mumbled something. I could have sworn he said, 'you smell nice', but I wasn't sure. For all I know, he could have said 'you have lice', or something like that.

"Sherlock," I spoke and he hummed in response. "Are you still mad at me?" I asked.

He looked at me, not realizing how close we were, our noses nearly touching, so we both pulled away slightly. "No, I don't see why I should be. I honestly already threw away that bit of information." He told me and looked back to the paper.

"I hope you realize why I was so angry…" I told him, but he didn't answer. "Sherlock, you nearly killed yourself, I got angry because I was worried."

"Angry because you were worried." He repeated. "That doesn't make much sense."

"It makes perfect sense." I defended. "I was worried about you, so I got angry when you got angry for stopping you."

"I told you I was perfectly fine."

"Why are you so stubborn!" I wasn't shouting, but I was getting slightly angry again.

"I could ask you the same thing!" His voice rose, but he wasn't shouting either.

"Why don't you let anybody worry about you! Even in the café when I was concerned because you weren't eating, you didn't seem very happy about it."

"Well, why are you so worried about me?" He countered. "You hardly know me."

"Because I care about people." I said as if it were obvious. "I don't have to know you to care about you." Sherlock looked at me, dumbfounded after my words. "Yes, you care about the people you love more, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you as a person. The fact that you took my case, flew to Paris, and lied to the entire continent of Europe is incentive enough for me to care about you more than a stranger!" I don't know why I was getting so angry, but I was. "Why is it that every time we talk, I get angry at you?" I huffed, and didn't even let him speak. "Just, go to bed." I pushed him slightly, signaling for him to get off the bed, and crawled under the covers, my back to him.

"Huh, look at that. There is something I don't understand in the world." He spoke, and I felt the bed get lighter from when he stood up. "You."


	4. Chapter 4

It was the next morning, and I woke by the sun's rays through the window. I stretched, getting up, and seeing that Sherlock was still fast asleep on the couch. ' _Best not to wake him'._ I tried to be as quiet as I could possibly be, getting my clothes and going to the bathroom to do my normal morning routine.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and plugged in my hot curler to do my hair. My outfit was simple, a ruffled blouse, blue jean short, and some flats. To me, I feel like I was underdressed considering Sherlock always wears something professional. Every picture I've seen of him before I even met him, he was always wearing black slacks with a button-up dress shirt and his famous coat. I would venture to say he even wears that coat in the middle of summer, but then again in London it never got too terribly hot.

I decided to do some simple everyday make-up after my hair was done. I'm not trying to impress anyone, but why not? I heard shuffling in the main room, and I figured Sherlock must have gotten up. I let out a small sigh, thinking. ' _Maybe I should apologize to him… In all honesty, I got angry over nothing. Maybe I'm just stressed over my brother and I tend to take it out on Sherlock…'_

A knock came to the door, interrupting my thoughts. "Bethany? May I come in?" Sherlock called, his tone being even deeper than normal due to it being the morning, and I'd be lying if I didn't find it attractive. Let's be honest, I find Sherlock attractive, but that doesn't mean anything...

"Yes, I'm nearly done." I said. Sherlock came in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He started the shower, taking off his shirt afterwards. My eyes widened some at how tone he was, his abs bulging out. "Hold up!" I yelled, realizing what he was doing. "You just can't just come in here and start stripping while I'm standing right here! We may be in a fake marriage, but that doesn't mean you can just strip in front of me!" I gave out a huff, putting my hands on my hips.

"You said you were almost done, correct?" He asked.

"Well that means to wait till I'm done!" I yelled further.

"Are you always this loud in the morning?" He grumbled in annoyance.

"I am when a man I hardly know just starts stripping in front of me!"

"Well we are married." He commented.

"Ugh! Sherlock." I groaned, leaving the bathroom and wanting to slam the door, but decided against it so I wouldn't wake up the whole hotel.

.

I didn't see Sherlock again, considering I left before him, till we were seated with John and Mary at breakfast.

"How was your morning?" I asked the couple, making a conversation.

"Good, but the neighbors are rather noisy." Mary said in a joking tone. "They tend to argue a lot."

"Some last night too." John mentioned.

"Ironically, I didn't start them let alone speak in them." Sherlock said, reading the paper.

"Okay, last night I admit that I started it and I apologize for that, but this morning was completely your fault." I told him. "You just walked in and started stripping!" I was quietly scolding him so that no one noticed our bickering.

"Well he did go to Buckingham Palace in just a sheet." John commented.

I looked to Sherlock as if he were insane. "You did what?" I asked in disbelieve.

"It was to make a point." He simply said.

"That point being?" I asked.

"Mycroft." Sherlock and John said in unison.

"Mycroft? Isn't that your brother? What's wrong with your br-"I started but John held up his hand and interrupted me.

"No, no, no we don't ask Sherlock these questions." John told me. "We will be here for three hours."

I looked at Sherlock, but he only continued reading the paper. "If you say so." I took John's word for it, not wanting to anger Sherlock. I've already seen him angry once, and I don't want to revisit that. Though, even then he didn't seem completely angry, so I never want to see him when he's outraged…

"So, what is the plan today?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Well, John," Sherlock immediately started. He handed John a folded piece of paper. "I want you to follow this man, and find out anything about him." He told him. John nodded, not even bothering to comment. "I'm going investigate Jacque Simon."

"Who is that?" I asked.

"I did some research, and he is the head of the company that your brother handed those plans to. The person we talked to was just the manager, not head over the whole organization." Sherlock explained.

"So, I'll go with you Sherlock, and Mary can go with John." I told.

"Um…" Sherlock said, as if not expecting us to go.

"Yea, that will work." Mary said, smiling.

"Um…" Sherlock said again.

"What? Did you think that we would just sit here waiting?" I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"Um…" He said baffled. "You actually want to come?" He asked.

"Of course!" I huffed.

"Sounds good to me." John said, ending our argument before it started.

Well, I guess I'm going with Sherlock. It shouldn't be too difficult… I just hope we don't start arguing again. I guess as long as he doesn't strip down in the middle of the street, we should be good.

Sherlock's phone starting to ring, causing him to dig it out of his coat pocket. He gave a small groan at the name on his screen, grimacing slightly. "What? Is it your brother that you apparently hate?" I said, laughing slightly.

"Not with that face." John said, laughing. "It's your mother, isn't it?"

"Yes…" Sherlock grumbled, answering the phone. "Hello?" He said and immediately held the phone out, away from his ear.

"Sherlock Holmes! How dare you get married and not even tell your own mother!" The woman shouted. "All of Europe knows, but you didn't bother to tell me! And worse, I didn't even get to see my son get married?! I gave up on Mycroft a long time ago, but that little hope for you I had, suddenly gets granted, BUT I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO SEE YOU GET MARRIED!" She finished her rant, and Sherlock put the phone to his ear again.

"Are you done?" He asked. The woman yelled more to him, but I couldn't decipher what she was saying. For some reason, I sort of felt bad. Apparently, Sherlock was her only hope for a normal son, and that's saying something, and she thinks that her one chance to see her child get married was taken away from her. Sherlock suddenly held out his phone to me. "She wants to talk to you." He said, his voice sounding annoyed.

I gave out one sigh, trying to calm my nerves. I'll be lying to his mother, and I really don't want to do that… I don't really have a choice though… I took the phone from Sherlock, putting it to my ear. "Hello?" I answered.

"Hello darling!" The woman cheered. "Let me introduce myself because my son failed to do so, I am Wanda Holmes." **(She didn't actually have a name in the show, so we just used the actual actress' name.)** The woman spoke with glee. Her voice naturally made me smile.

"Yes ma'am," I told her. "My name's Bethany, it is a pleasure to finally talk to you." I told her. "Sherlock would never let me." I blamed it on him, as if that was a real excuse.

"That sounds like him," She told me. "I'm just happy Sherlock actually found someone." She said with joy, and I went to take a sip of my water. "I still have hope that I might get grandchildren." She let out a laugh, and I'm sure she didn't mean any harm by it, but I nearly choked on my water.

"Um, yea…" I let out a nervous laugh… Now I felt horrible… It's obvious to us that, that is not going to happen, and she got her hopes up… My shoulders dropped at the thought of what we're doing to his mother and mine. "Not anytime soon though, we need time." I told her, trying to sound happy.

"Oh, I know that." She told me. A man on the other end of the phone called to her. "Alright." She told him. "It was very nice to talk with you Bethany, but I'm afraid I have to go. Tell Sherlock goodbye for me." She spoke and hung up.

I let out a sigh, and handed the phone back to Sherlock. "What did she say to make you down?" Mary asked.

Sherlock looked at me cautiously, as if trying to figure it out himself. "We're lying to your mother and I don't like it." I said, looking to Sherlock. "She seemed so happy, and it's all a lie… How could you do that? How could _we_ do that?" Sherlock looked at me as if for once he didn't know what to say. I let out a final sigh and stood up. "Let's go." I quickly left the table, not wanting to talk on the subject anymore.

.

Sherlock and I walked together as we headed towards Jacque Simon's office. We didn't talk; there was nothing really to say. I remembered my father wanted to talk to Sherlock, but I didn't feel like calling him at the moment.

"My mother mentioned children, didn't she." Sherlock stated more than asked.

"Yes," I simply said. "And I really don't want to talk about it, so let's drop it." I said, my tone warning him not to push it.

"I don't like it either." He mentioned. "I didn't realize what this could have done to my mother."

I let out a small sigh. "I didn't realize either, so you're not the only one at fault." I let out a bitter chuckle. "When your mother sounded so happy, I was halfway tempted to tell you that we should actually get married just to please her and my own mother." Sherlock gave me a strange look. "Well," I said, grabbing his hand and interlocking our fingers. "Might as well make them happy while it last." I told him, smiling up to him. "Plus, there is a media person with a camera over there." I nodded to store across the street.

"Oh good, you noticed him too." Sherlock said.

"I guess it's time to be Mrs. Holmes for a little while." I let out a laugh, pushing the sadness from earlier in the back of my mind.

A few people with cameras showed up, snapping a few pictures, but they didn't bother us. Sherlock and I did a good job at making it look real, him even pulling me into his side and kissing my forehead.

A little girl came up to us and tugged on Sherlock's coat. She asked him something in French; the only words I understood was 'Sherlock Holmes'.

Sherlock bent down some to be eye level with her, answering her. "Oui." He told her. Okay, I do know that means yes. From what I gathered, the little girl asked him if he was Sherlock Holmes, which he replied yes.

The girl didn't say anything, just grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards a small flower stand. She called out to a woman who I would assume would be her mother, "Momma c'est Sherlock Holmes! Il peut nous aider!"

The woman looked up at Sherlock and spoke to him in English but with a heavy French accent, "You are Sherlock Holmes sir?"

Sherlock nodded, "Oui. Your daughter mentioned that I could help you, and judging by your demeanor and posture, a close relative has gone missing. Could this person be your husband by any chance?"

The woman's eyes opened wide in shock, "Oui, monsieur!"

Sherlock nodded again almost looking bored, "How long ago did he go missing?"

She responded immediately and held up one finger, "One month."

"I see. Have you gone to the police about this?"

"Oui, monsieur but, they have not been able to find my Jacque."

Sherlocks whole face lit up when he heard that first name. In the calmest voice he could probably manage, "Would his last name happen to be Simon?"

The woman stared at Sherlock once again in utter disbelieve, "Oui! How did you…"

"He has been a recent interest of mine. Now, if you could please tell me more."

Both the woman and Sherlock started to discuss the details about her husband's disappearance when the little girl tugged on my blouse. When I looked down, I saw her looking curiously at me. "You are le sien wife?"

I smiled and squatted down to her level, knowing what she meant. "Oui."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Parlez-vous français?"

I panicked slightly when she spoke to me in French, but I started to think about what she said. I knew that francais meant French so she was probably asking me if I could speak it. I shook my head no, "No. I only know…" I racked my brain for the word. Once I thought of it, I held up my fingers to indicate small, "petit."

"Oh. Je peux parler un peu en anglais."

I glanced at Sherlock, who somehow knew I needed assistance because he simply stated, "She said she can speak a little English."

Her mother nodded, "Yes. She is learning. I am too. Jacque, due to his job, taught me. Now I am trying to teach her."

I smiled up at the little girl's mother. "I wish I knew another language. It would be amazing to be able to communicate with people in other countries."

The woman smiled back at me, "Oui. It's why I wanted to learn."

Sherlock nodded, "It is most helpful to know the languages of the world. Now Madame, I hope to be in contact with you soon about your husband. Thank you for all your help. Bonne journée."

I stood up next to Sherlock and began to follow him as I heard the little girl yell out, "Bye monsieur and madame Holmes! Merci!"

I smiled as I walked away, the little girl still watching us as we went. "Why are you smiling?" Sherlock asked, digging his phone out of his pocket and texting someone, probably John.

"I don't know honestly." I admitted.

"Interesting, he's been missing too." Sherlock mentioned. "But, we need to go to the company and question them if they knew why he's been gone." I nodded, grabbing Sherlock's hand again as we walked.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock huffed as we left the company. "Well, it's clear that is a drop off place for whatever their operation is, but the manager can't be involved. He's too much of an idiot." Sherlock ranted, walking faster the more he spoke.

Sherlock asked to see those paper's my brother seemed to drop off at the company, only to find out that someone came and picked them up already. "Sherlock, can you slow down please." I said as I practically jogged to keep up with him.

Sherlock sighed and stopped so I could catch up, "Even though the manager was an idiot, at least it wasn't a useless trip."

Now caught up to him, we continued to walk and I asked him, "What do you mean? It seems to me like we are back at square one."

"No, due to his disorganized mess, I learned that that company actually deals with several foreign affairs, and now that we know your brother is not the only 'missing' person, it is possible that there could be several involved, which indicates that this is not just a small scam or project for a common goal. More than likely, this just turned into an international issue."

I frowned at his statement. Sherlock was stating his deduction, so I didn't blame him, but that meant my brother was involved with this. "My brother isn't someone who would help criminals." I said, wrapping my arms around myself as we walked.

"Someone might be threatening him to assist in their operations. In fact, they might be threatening everyone who is majorly involved in order to keep the blame off of themselves."

"Bonjour Monsieur Holmes!" The little girl from earlier shouted as we passed the floral shop. "Bonjour belle Madame Holmes!"

I smiled and waved back to her. "We should find out their names." I mentioned.

"Her mother's name is Therese." Sherlock told me. "The little girl's name is Zoe."

"Bonsoir!" She called and turned back to her mother, whom worked the shop.

I looked to them and smiled before turning back to Sherlock. "We need to find Jacque and bring him back to them. With a family like that, I believe he was a good man and is being threatened like you said my brother was."

Sherlock gave nod. "I agree, but not everyone is what they seem to be."

"I agree as well." I smiled up at him. "You aren't what you seem to be."

"Is that a good thing?" He asked.

"Yes," I answered. "On the outside, you seem like an inconsiderate man who only thinks of himself, but on the inside, you're a caring man who feels bad that he's lying to his mother. A man who doesn't know boundaries at times, but…" I drew out the word with a laugh as Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Are you still going on about this morning?" He asked, and my eyes might be tricking me, but I believe I saw him give a short laugh.

"It's clear you aren't a socialite and don't know common human interaction," I said with a laugh as we continued to walk, "But, you're still a good man."

"Hm," Sherlock hummed, "You're the first person to ever say I was a good man."

"No, I'm not." I stated. "The media says it all the time."

"No, they same I'm a great man, not a good one." He glanced down at me as he spoke. "There's a difference."

"I know, a good man is a much better title than a great one." I continued to smile up at him. "I believe you're a good man."

"You can honestly thank John for that opinion of me." He told me. "Before I met him I _was_ an inconsiderate man who only thinks of himself, but he somehow broke me and I started… caring for people." Sherlock waved his hands as if he didn't like the idea.

I giggled at his statement. "I didn't think you could joke like that."

"It was a half joke." He stated. "Half of it was true."

"I don't think caring for people means John broke you." I laughed.

"Yes, but back when I didn't care, life was a lot easier."

I gave him an odd look at his statement. "Life may have been easier, but it's more filled when you have people you love and care about. I know you care for John, and Mary for that matter. You say you hate your brother, but I know deep down you do care for him."

"What gave you that conclusion? I never indicated that I cared for Mycroft." We entered the hotel as he said this.

"Well, the fact that you have his number saved in your phone and that he actually calls you, tells me you care for him at least a little."

"Who said I have his number saved?" Sherlock asked, but I had a feeling he already knew my answer.

"This morning when your mother called, I asked if it was Mycroft, and John said, 'not with that face', so that indicates that he has called you before and therefore you probably have his number saved." I explained.

"You're observant." He told. "You're not a total idiot like the rest of the world."

I gave him a look and shoved him with a laugh. "At least I know the solar system. John told me that you didn't." I teased, only to get a side glare from Sherlock. I let out a small laugh before continuing. "Just because you are extremely smart doesn't mean everyone else is an idiot you know. To you maybe, but to the rest of the world, no."

"I know, I just say it to annoy John." Sherlock told me. "Even though it is true."

"Again, most people at least know the solar system." I earned a small glare from Sherlock again, but he didn't say anything.

We got in the elevator, the ride being silent for a while before Sherlock finally spoke. "You aren't what you seem to be either." He told me.

I gave a small smile at his words. "And?" I asked. Sherlock gave me a smug smirk, but didn't say anything. The elevator doors opened and left me without an answer. "You know we share a room, I can annoy you until you give me an answer." I told him. Sherlock gave me the same look, still not answering me.

I gave a small sigh and followed Sherlock to John and Mary's room. The couple was sitting on the bed, looking over a file. "Was I right?" Sherlock asked.

"Yep, he seems to be involved." John said, not bothering to look up.

"Who?" I asked.

"That man that was yelling at your brother." Sherlock answered me.

"The police said this was the first time he has caused a problem, but they did know that he was involved with that same company." John explained.

"How is he involved?" I asked.

"He works there." John simply said.

"Why was he yelling at my brother?" I further questioned.

"He told the police that he was being rude, so he yelled at him, but I doubt that was the actual reason." John said. "But, on a good note," John continued, "They can't find him."

"How is that good?" I asked.

"It means that he's acting suspicious, so it means he knows something." Sherlock informed me.

The room was silent for a bit before I decided to speak up. "So, what now?"

"Supper sounds wonderful now." Mary spoke.

"Shouldn't we find out more about this man?" I asked.

"Where do you suspect we go from here?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I was hoping you had an idea."

"I do, I just wanted to see if you did." He said and I tried not to roll my eyes at the condescending tone of his voice. "We'll start tomorrow." Sherlock left the room as he spoke.

"Is he not going to tell us his plan?" I grumbled and followed Sherlock out the room.

.

We sat in a small restaurant, all hungry except for Sherlock apparently. "Sherlock, eat something please." I said.

He looked at the food in front him that he ordered because I mentioned it him to. "I'm not hungry." He simply stated.

"You haven't eaten anything all day, or last night for that matter." I said, worry in my voice.

"I told you he never eats anything on a case." John reminded me.

I frowned my brows at Sherlock. "That's very unhealthy. Please eat."

"You're talking to the man who solves crimes in place of getting high." Sherlock said, clearly not caring about my warning.

"Well you shouldn't do drugs either, but please." I was basically begging. "You have to be at least a little hungry. Please, for me."

"The phrase 'for me' doesn't change my opinion on my hunger levels." Sherlock told me.

I started to get angry at his refusal to eat. How can he not care about his health at all? I put my hands on my hips and gave a huff of annoyance. "Sherlock Holmes, eat." I said, giving no room for argument.

Sherlock's brows rose at my words. "Since when can you command me what to do?"

"You married her remember." John said. "She's inclined to boss around your arrogant ass."

"Yea, what John said." I said. "Now eat before I hand feed you." Sherlock clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, but did as I asked and began to eat. "Thank you."

"He actually listened…" I heard John say in shock. "Are you sick? Have you been taking drugs?"

Sherlock only looked at him, annoyance on his face. "You have no right to say anything John Watson. It is because of you pointing out that idiotic fact that I must keep up the farce of us being married. Because of your inconsiderate mouth, I am forced to eat food that really does not appeal to me at the moment, when I could be observing."

I quickly defended John. "Don't you dare yell at him!"

"I didn't yell, I was stating the obvious." Sherlock grumbled.

I gave out another huff. "No, you were being obnoxious."

Sherlock put down his fork and gave me a cold glare, "If you haven't noticed by now Ms. Westbay, this is how I am. You hired me to help _you_ , not for you to boss me around. If you continue to be equally obnoxious I will drop your case no matter how intriguing it is."

I stared at him, giving a small sigh. "Sorry for worrying." I mumbled and turned back to my own food. "Don't eat if you don't want to. Just stop listening to me." I pulled out my phone to avoid looking at anyone, and saw that I had ten missed calls and twenty text messages from my father. "Excuse me," I said, getting up and calling my father.

"Finally! I have been worried sick, where have you been?!" My dad yelled in a worried tone.

I let out a soft sigh. "Sorry Daddy." I told him. "But, you know, I am on my honeymoon." _'Thank you Sherlock'_ My sarcasm was even in my thoughts.

"Let me talk to this husband of yours."

I groaned internally, but went back to the table anyway. I looked to where Sherlock _should_ be sitting only to find he was gone. I put the phone down to rest against my shoulder and whispered, "Where's Sherlock?"

John just gave a confused shrug to indicate that he had no idea. I looked to Mary who just pointed to the door. "He left." She told me.

I gave out another annoyed groan and put the phone back to my ear. "Sorry Daddy, he's, um, in the shower." I could tell my father was about to say something, but I quickly interrupted. "Oh, look free champagne, got to go! We'll talk when I get back! Bye!" I hung up the phone before he could say anything. "Where the hell did he go?" I grumbled. "I don't know if he's just a really good detective, or a child trapped in a man's body."

"A little bit of both." John commented.

I looked out the window and sighed. "We should learn not to sit by the window so he can't look out."

John chuckled, "Sorry, but that will never happen when he is on a case. When he sets his mind on something, there isn't anyone who can change it. He might be irritable, obnoxious, intolerable, and insane but, once you know how he operates, he really is the best friend you could ever had. There has been more than one occasion of him saving my life because of how he is. Even if he is strange, I wouldn't change him. I guess that's why I stopped trying to get him to do certain things. Trust me, he will eat when he is hungry. He knows he needs food in order to keep his brain at prime functioning levels."

"It sounds like you are saying I was worrying for nothing."

Mary smiled at me, "In a way yes, but he also is justifying your worry. John was simply explaining to you that something normal to us, isn't really normal for Sherlock. Even after knowing him for several years, John still can't always comprehend everything Sherlock does."

"Is he really all that difficult to handle?"

John shook his head, "He's not that bad once you get to know how he is. Trust me, if you didn't react like you have been, I would think you were strange."

I smiled some, "Thanks for the uplift. I thought I was the one in the wrong here…"

"No. You're fine." John and Mary stood up and John put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "He'll be back. Just let him be."

I could only nod at his comment as we all went up to our rooms for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

***WE DO NOT OWN THE NAME NOR ANY PART OF THE CHARACTER SPOCK! ALL RIGHTS TO RIGHTFUL OWNER!***

.

A day and a half and there still was no sign of Sherlock. John tried calling and texting him, but he never answered. I was sitting on the hotel bed, bouncing my leg and looking at the paperwork John got the other day. Nothing new was on the papers, but I still tried to find anything to help.

The door opened, and I expected it to be John or Mary but it was- "Sherlock!" I gleefully said and got up. "Thank goodness you're alright!"

Sherlock shoved a folder full of papers to me. "Here, this should help the police find your brother." He said, pushing past me and began to pack his bag. "Now that you have that, I can go home and you can go to the police to help you."

I didn't even look to the papers, and set them down on the bed before walking over to him. "Wait, Sherlock I can't go to the police." I told him. "Who knows what my brother is involved with, and people will listen to you when and if you can defend him."

"Then figure it out for yourself." He stated bluntly.

My face fell at his words. I took in a deep breath and nodded. I can understand why he is so upset. "Okay..." I said. "Have a safe trip home."

I turned around, going over to the bed and opened the folder he gave me. In it, was information about several men, each from different countries, that have gone 'missing'. "That's it?" I heard Sherlock asked. "No argument, no telling me how I'm a selfish bastard?"

"No," I said. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened last night. I was worried when I shouldn't have been because it's you, and you…" I sighed giving a shrug, and for some reason I started to tear up and I didn't know why. "You're you and do things differently." I looked down at the papers in my hand. I wanted to say more, but I didn't know what. "Have a good life Mr. Holmes." Sherlock seemed sort of shocked by my reaction to him leaving, but he continued packing. "I'm sure I can find a detective just as good to help me." I spoke.

I heard Sherlock slam his suitcase and I smirked as I continued to look down at the papers, knowing that my words may get him to stay. "First of all," He started and soon I saw a pair of shoes in front of me.

I looked up and gave a soft smile. "Yes?"

"There is no detective as good as me, and that's not being conceded, that is a fact." I snickered at his words and smiled more. "And secondly," he gave out a quick breath, "If you continue to hire me then you will not be allowed to boss me around and argue every time we see each other."

My smile was full now as I got up and hugged him around his neck. His body was tense as I hugged him, as if he didn't know what to do. "Thank you." I said. "And I'm sorry again."

Sherlock patted my back, again, as if he didn't know what to do. I had my face in his shoulder and I heard him give a sort sigh. "You're forgiven." He told me.

I finally pulled away and smiled up at him. "Thank you, and I'm going to apologize in advance if I start arguing… I'm just as stubborn as you are sometimes."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and asked, "Sometimes?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes playfully before I admitted, "Ok, all the time."

Sherlock nodded as a way to confirm my statement, "That's more accurate, however, stubbornness, even though it's hard to deal with at times, isn't a bad quality. Stubborn just means passionate about your beliefs and morals in life."

I blushed as I realized he was trying to compliment me, I smiled at him and simply said, "Thank you." I looked back at the folder on the bed, then back to Sherlock, "So… what did you find?"

"I'm glad you asked." Sherlock quickly opened the folder and proceeded to explain what he found in his exploration.

As Sherlock explained, I did my best to follow him, down to the last detail. For the most part, I understood what he was trying to say. "So, in short, my brother isn't the only one who has disappeared, and you believe because they are all from different countries, there's an international incident." I couldn't bring myself to say crime because my brother was involved.

"Correct."

"So where do we go from here?"

"Where would you suggest?"

Shocked by his question, I took a moment to think about everything that has occurred, "Well… the main company that all of these men are linked to has not been very helpful thus far… so maybe sneak in and see what we can find?"

Sherlock smiled and I felt my cheeks heating up with the way he looked at me, "Brilliant analysis. John wouldn't like that plan very much because it would technically be breaking and entering, but it is the fastest and most effective way to get the information we need."

"Th... Thank you." I smiled at his compliment, but my face fell when I remembered the name he mentioned, "John… Did you tell John that you were back?"

"No, why?"

"Sherlock! He has been worried sick!" I was about to continue scolding him, but John's words rang in my ears. Taking a deep breath, I continued, "How about we go over, let them know you are alright, and go over the plan with them? I'm sure you have a role for John to play."

"Correct again. It might take some convincing though. He has a thing about not breaking the law."

I couldn't hold back my laughter as I watched Sherlock pout as if breaking the law was a normal thing to do, "Well, it is the law. Now let's go."

.

"Absolutely not!" John yelled, his ears getting red. "We are not breaking the law."

"Well technically, you and Mary will only be standing watch while Bethany and I break the law." Sherlock told.

"That's even worse!" John continued to yell. "You're bringing Bethany into this!"

"Well technically he's only breaking the law because of me." I mentioned.

"We are married, correct? Married couples are supposed to do things together." Sherlock said, and I think he was joking, but then again, it's Sherlock so you never know.

"Sherlock, you two aren't actually married!" I swear smoke was coming from John's ears.

"I know, but right now it works to my advantage."

"It doesn't work with me Sherlock! I've known you for too long. For other people, sure but not with me!"

"Well technically it was her idea. It would be disrespectful to her to not allow her to go."

John slapped his hand down on the table, "Don't give me that! You already had this planned, you just let her say it so you would have another excuse! And since when do you care about disrespecting and or respecting other people!"

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but for once, seemed to be at a loss for words. All that came out of Sherlock's mouth was, "I…um…" I found myself smiling at the fact that he didn't know what to say. I wonder why he was so insistent that I went with him. Maybe as a way to make amends? I'm not sure. All I know is that it made me happy.

Sherlock was struggling so I decided to speak. "Well I'm going with or without anyone. I need to know where my brother is and why he is involved as quickly as possible. So not going is not an option." I said. "But with your help it would be a lot easier."

"I'm going with you," Sherlock said without hesitation. "You are my client; therefore, I am inclined to protect you, and aid you naturally." He smiled to me, his dimples showing.

I smiled up at him, and told him thank you. I then looked to John and Mary. "Will you help?"

Mary gave me a smile and nodded. "Of course, I'll help."

We all looked to John, earning an exaggerated sigh from him. "I hate all of you." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, I'll help."

"Like you wouldn't." Sherlock said as if he knew his answer from the beginning. "I say we leave around midnight," Sherlock suggested. "Until then," He gave a nod and left without another word.

I gave John and Mary one last smile before leaving with Sherlock to our room. "Sherlock," I said as I entered our room and shut the door behind me. "You mentioned earlier about how stubbornness is being passionate about morals."

"Yes, what about it?" Sherlock was already sitting on the bed, looking through the files again as he spoke.

I sat next to him on the bed. "What are your morals?" I asked.

Sherlock seemed a bit taken back by my questioned. "I don't really have any."

"Every person has some sort of morals."

"Well," Sherlock turned to me as he talked. "If I had to have any, I guess it would be that I will do anything to solve a case and put the proper people behind bars."

I gave a smile to his statement. "That's sweet."

"I suppose," He said and turned back to the files. "What are yours?" He asked.

"My morals?" I asked and he nodded. "I guess you can say caring about others even against the odds. Doing what you believe is right and standing by the people you love even if they hurt you."

Sherlock looked at me, his eyes roaming around to the different points on my face. "Those are good morals."

"You have one of the morals I just said."

Sherlock's left brow rose. "I do?"

I smiled to him. "Yes, you stand by the people you love even if they hurt you. You stand by John and Mary even if they scream at you." I moved to sit on my feet. "John does the same to you. I read about your supposed death those years ago, and I read John's blog of how pissed off he was at you." Sherlock didn't say a word as I told him this. "You hurt him Sherlock, yet he still stands as your best friend. And," I continued, "I know that you were hurt by that experience even if you're not brave enough to admit it."

"How could you possibly know that?" He asked, his voice oddly soft.

"Because I know people," I told him. "You are a normal man by no means, but everyone has emotions. Even Spock had emotions and he wasn't fully human." I giggled at my own statement. "And, when I mentioned when you faked your death your eyes darkened. They weren't their normal bright blue; instead they turned more of a dark grey. I know how to read facial expressions, and yours read one of sadness." I took in a short breath before continuing. "You hate the fact that you hurt John like that, and even though it's in the past you still hate the memory."

Sherlock was silent for a few seconds before speaking. "You're pretty good." He told me. "You have some deductions skills."

"I have people skills." I corrected. "I've been around people enough to tell when they are sad, depressed, angry, in love, happy, and almost any emotion you can think of. I know what it looks and feels like to experience different emotions."

Sherlocked looked at me, a questioning look on his face, "You can learn all of this simply by interacting with others?"

"Well, yeah. That's how most people do it."

"An interesting notion. One worth looking into. However, one can do the same thing by simply studying books."

"Not really. There are some things you can't learn just by reading a book. There are similarities that everyone shares, but each person is different. There is more to an emotion that just what people see. There's a meaning behind each emotion, something that caused it to be there. Sometimes you can never tell what someone is feeling simply by looking at their face, sometimes their whole body is what lets you know the truth."

"Again, I have no issues deducing what others are feeling, and I do not particularly enjoy being social with the normal incompetent human."

"Ok. Prove it. What am I feeling right now and why?"

Sherlock's eyes roamed up and down my body, "You are annoyed because I have a different view point than you and you are trying to prove that you are correct. You are slightly prideful because you believe you have me in a corner, and thirdly, judging by your poster, you are happy because I decided to continue doing your case." Believing he won, Sherlock looked back down to the papers in the folder.

"Wrong."

Sherlock's head shot up, "Wrong? What do you mean I'm wrong?"

"You are correct that I was annoyed and why, you were also correct that I was feeling prideful, but I have a right to be prideful now because you did not guess the reason on why I am happy."

Sherlock gave me a puzzled look, "Are you not happy that I continued to work on your case?"

"No, I was happy that you continued, but that happened a while ago. That is not the reason I am happy right now."

"Then why are you happy?"

I smirked, "Figure it out." Before he could say anything, I turned and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

 ** _*Okay Sherlock fans! Time for some deducing! Can you figure out why she is happy by the hints we gave in the story? Comment your answer :) 3*_**


	7. Chapter 7

"Was it because John agreed to come with us?" Sherlock asked. Because I told him to figure out why I was so happy, he has been bugging me about it ever since.

I laughed at his tenth time at trying to figure it out. "Nope." I said popping the 'p'. We were sneaking in the main company now, Sherlock picking at the lock.

"Was it because we haven't argued yet?"

"Negative." I said. I started to variate my 'no' answers after the fifth guess.

"For the love of the good Lord above, can I please tell him so he will shut up?" John said, rubbing his hand over his face.

"No," Sherlock and I stated in unison.

Sherlock turned to look at John. "The fact that you know it and I don't, makes it even more annoying."

John rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks for the compliment." He said sarcastically.

Sherlock returned to his work on the door, "How can I even be sure you actually know the correct answer? You could just be trying to intentionally annoy me in order to get back at me for my resent disappearance."

I bit my lip trying to hold in my laughter, "Ok, John tell me and I will let you know if he's right or not." Sherlock only nodded as John whispered his guess into my ear, "Yep. That's right."

Sherlock quickly finished picking the lock and thrusted the door open, "Incomprehensible."

I smiled as I walked through the door, "He's around people Sherlock."

With a huff, Sherlock followed me inside. "Not needing to talk to your father about the fake marriage yet?" He guessed.

"Not even close." I told him as I followed him to the head office. Sherlock gave a low growl of annoyance, making me giggle. "Do you want a hint, oh great detective?" I asked, mockingly, fluttering my eyelashes.

"No," He said annoyed. He began rummaging through paperwork on the main office desk. I started going through files trying to see if I could find anything that would help us. Eighteen minutes passed by and I heard Sherlock's phone go off. He quickly checked it and whispered to me, "We have five minutes before we need to be completely gone. John just informed me that the janitor's will be here within ten minutes."

I flinched my eyes going wide at his statement. I whispered back to him, "Then shouldn't we be getting out?"

"I have two more minutes."

"But Sherlock!"

"Found it!" Putting the papers back where he found them, he quickly grabbed my hand and hurried out of the building right before the janitor's arrived.

Once we were far enough away, I huffed and asked Sherlock, "What did you find."

"Once we are all back at the hotel, I will explain."

"Sherlock! Bethany!" I turned around to see John and Mary running to join us, "Did you have any luck? Or did we break the law for nothing."

Sherlock quickly answered him, "Again, you didn't break it, I did, and yes I did find something of great importance. I will explain once we are in a secure location."

John only nodded in understanding before we all made our way back to our hotel. After brewing some tea, Sherlock proceeded to tell us what exactly he discovered. "I have already informed all of you that I believe this to be an international crime organization operating behind the scenes using companies and people as their means of distributing goods and or information. What I found, is confirmation of theory. This company is just one of many." He quickly held up his phone to show that he took a picture of his evidence.

I looked at the picture, dumbfounded, "When did you do that?"

"Quickly, quietly, and carefully. Now, the good news is that we will be going home. There's a company in London that seems to be the main hub or meeting point. I want to personally go investigate. It will provide me with more information to not only help find your brother, but possibly everyone else, as well as stopping whatever they have planned."

John nodded, "So we are going back to London in the morning?"

"Correct."

"Good. So, we have a plan, but Sherlock," I could see John smirk before he continued his sentence, "Have you figured out why Bethany was happy yet?"

Sherlock's eye began to twitch at John's words and I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll be hearing about it all night." I said turning to leave. "Goodnight John, Mary." I waved them goodnight before going to mine and Sherlock's room.

Sherlock entered after me, closing the door behind him, and taking off his coat. "Are you simply telling me I keep getting the answer wrong of to why you are happy just to drive me even more insane than I already am?" Sherlock huffed, sitting next to me on the bed.

"Of course not. You just haven't gotten the answer right." Sherlock gave out another huff, making me giggle. "Think," I told him. "Why would I be happy after the fact of you still taking my case?"

Sherlock looked at me, studying me before giving out a sigh. "I don't know, the fact that I let you come along tonight without argument." He said this as if he had given up and he didn't believe that was the answer. I didn't say anything of course, I simply looked at him and waited for him to figure it out. "What?" he asked after noticing my stares. "That was the answer?"

I got up, grabbing some peanut butter and a spoon. "It was about time you figured it out." I said, sitting next to him again and eating some of my peanut butter.

"That is a stupid reason to be happy." He huffed.

I laughed, the spoon full of peanut butter still in my mouth. "You only think it's stupid because you took forever to figure it out." I put my food aside before I continued. "Sherlock, I didn't expect you to get the answer easily because of how you think. I didn't figure you would think that a simple interaction of just letting me come along, no questions ask, would make me as happy as it did."

"Why did it make you so happy?" He asked.

"Because I am not the type of person to just sit around and wait. In fact, when I'm just sitting around wondering what is actually happening, I can't eat, I can't sleep, it physically affects me. Being a part of something versus just sitting around, gives me purpose. I need purpose in order to function. So, when you asked me to help, since I haven't really helped yet, it made me happy. You gave me a role, a purpose." I looked down at my fingers, picking at my nails as I continued to speak. "And now that I say that allowed it makes me even more sorry for yelling at you about eating when I do the same thing."

Sherlock didn't say anything, nor did I. The only noise was the outside nightlife off the balcony until Sherlock finally cleared his throat. "I've never met someone like you."

I tilted my head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Someone who needs to be doing something, even if it means that it is dangerous, and not like those idiots who do dangerous things just in order to have something to do. You are bright and think through problems logically, but also allow your emotions to control you at times, which seems to simply be an enhancement to your ability to analyze your current situation better, which in and of itself is strange. Most people, when controlled by their emotions, lose their ability to think. Your ability just enhances. Your strange."

"And so are you. I've never met someone who can completely dislodge their emotions."

"It was rather easy actually. When you think rationally and logically, emotions are not required. Until now, I'm only believed emotions to hindered the ability to think properly."

I gave a small nod to his words. "Emotions can be a blessing and a curse." I told him. "Having emotions gives you the ability to console and connect with others in understanding what they are feeling, like I proved to you."

"That's an interesting notion." He commented.

"On the other hand," I continued. "Having emotions causes pain at times. You cry and hurt, but over the years I've learned that to cry and to hurt can be a good thing."

"How is mentally hurting a good thing?" He asked.

I gave him a soft smile. "I'll explain that with an example," I said. "Let's say John died." My simple statement made Sherlock frown his brows, clearly not liking the idea. "If he died I imagine your natural reaction would be to grab a box of cigarettes and smoke some of the sorrow away. The sadness of a loved one never truly leaves you but someone who doesn't express emotions will have a harder time dealing with the situation. Someone who expresses emotions will naturally cry, and if they were close to the person, it wouldn't be a few tears. I imagine they would cry for at least a few hours." I took a quick breath before continuing. "But having cried, it is easier to move on than someone who finds substitutes to aid the sorrow. When you faked your death, John told me that you called him right before you jumped. He said that he could tell you were crying, and don't even bothering denying it. What I want to know is if you know why you cried?"

"Of course, I do." He quickly said. "I felt sorrow, just as you said, and partly because I was acting."

"Ignoring the acting part," I said and smiled, sitting up straight. "That proves it then."

"Proves what?" Sherlock raised a brow.

"That you too have emotions." I smiled wider at him. "It just takes you longer to express them." I giggled slightly at my statement.

.

The next morning, I sat next to Sherlock once again as the plane headed back to London. I was currently texting my mother, though, she was driving me crazy! She constantly asked about Sherlock, which I understand why, but it was getting to be too much. I finally broke down and told her we would go visit tomorrow.

"I'm sorry." I told Sherlock.

"Why?"

"Because we have to go see my parents tomorrow." I grumbled.

"Oh," He gave a short sigh. "Then I should probably apologize too. We're going visit my parents this weekend."

I gave out a small groan. "I have nothing against your parents of course, but I really don't want to lie to their faces."

"I don't wish too either." He told me. "We could tell them the truth, but…" Sherlock gave out a sigh. "I don't want to crush my mother's spirits just yet."

"And I don't want to tell my mother why we were actually in France yet either."

"I don't know about you, but I enjoyed our honeymoon despite the fighting."

I gave a small laugh. "I guess I enjoyed our fake honeymoon as well. I don't think we could even count that as a fake honeymoon."

"Why? We went sightseeing, ate French food, and broke into an office building. I'd count it as a honeymoon." Sherlock smirked as he spoke.

I giggled. "Of course, you would count breaking into an office building as a means for a honeymoon. I guess that replaces what normal people do on honeymoons, but then again we aren't normal people."

"We aren't normal people, and we don't actually have romantic feelings for one another." Sherlock explained further.

"Yet at least." I heard John mumbled from across the aisle.

"What?" Sherlock asked turning to him, but it was clear that he heard exactly what John said.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all." John gave a sarcastic smile before turning back to Mary.

Why not yet? Does he think we will? Before I could give it any more thought, the plane landed and we headed back to 221B Baker Street.

As soon as we walked through the door, a baby screamed and started to cry. Mrs. Hudson was holding the small girl, but the baby, whom I assumed was Rosie, wiggled in her arms and was reaching out towards John. "Dada!" She screamed.

I smiled to the small girl as John took Rosie in his arms. "She missed you two." I said, smiling brighter as Rosie looked to me.

"Mama." Rosie said and held one of her little hands out to Mary.

"Hello darling." Mary said and kissed her daughter.

We all then headed upstairs, little Rosie having stopped crying now that her father held her.

Ms. Hudson followed, clearing her throat once we all were upstairs. "So, when did you want to tell me you got married Sherlock?" she asked.

Sherlock sighed. "We're not actually married, but don't tell anyone. We have to pretend to be married, and please don't ask why," Sherlock explained.

Ms. Hudson frowned. "Sherlock… Your mother." Ms. Hudson spoke in worry for Sherlock's parents.

I frowned, and Sherlock sighed again as he plopped down in his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, I know. I don't like it any more than you do, but please do not say anything."

Ms. Hudson gave a huff, clearly not liking the idea. "Fine, but if you break your mother's heart, then don't you dare come crawling to me afterwards," she said and turned to me. "Know that I don't blame you dear. This was most likely all Sherlock's idea," she told me and left.

Sherlock sighed for the umpteenth time. "Bethany and I will go check out the company now since tomorrow we have to go lie to your parents." Sherlock said all this in a somewhat sorrowful tone. "John, Rosie clearly missed you two a lot, so Bethany and I can manage it on our own." John nodded, still holding his daughter. "But, tomorrow I might need you to go check out the company further depending on what we find."

John nodded again. "Okay, be careful."


	8. Chapter 8

"So that was a useless trip," I commented as Sherlock and I left the company.

"They clearly know something but are refusing to say anything. The man got really nervous when I mentioned the company in France, so he is suspicious of us now. If this is an international crime organization then we might want to watch our backs from now on."

My brows frowned. "But, he doesn't know we know all that. For all he knows we are only trying to find my brother."

Sherlock nodded in agreement. "Let's hope so."

We walked in silence for a while until I decided to break it. "So, what exactly are we going to tell my parents? My father is going to question you on every little detail, so I say we need to talk about it."

"Alright, tell me about your family so I'm not walking in blindly," he said as we got into a cab.

"My mother's name is Helen and my father's is Charlie. My father is the CEO of a lumber company, and my mother is a home baker. Outside of that, we don't really associate with anyone else. All my grandparents died before I was born except for my Nanna, but she died five years ago. James got to know my grandfather a bit when he was little, but he died about three months before I was born."

"I estimate that your brother is four years older than you," Sherlock said.

I smiled to him. "Nearly, yes. He is about four and a half years older than me." We arrived at 221B and started heading upstairs. "What about you? How much older is Mycroft than you?"

"Seven years. My mother's name, as you know, is Wanda, and my father's name is Timothy," he told me. "We can simply say we didn't talk much of family so that neither one of us are expected to know anything."

We got to 221B to see that John and Mary already went home. It was already late anyway, so Sherlock didn't seem surprised. "You can sleep in John's old room upstairs," Sherlock told me. "If you are hungry we can order take out," he added.

I hummed in response as I sat in John's chair. "Pizza sounds amazing right now." Sherlock nodded and started typing on his computer. "We should leave early tomorrow, or my parents will complain… Sorry for dragging you into this."

"It was my idea, so I should be the one apologizing." Sherlock said, still typing. "Do you like pepperoni?" he asked.

"Sure, we can get whatever you want," I told him. I sighed as I looked to him. I sort of feel bad for dragging him into this, especially dealing with my parents. I guess I'll see tomorrow.

.

So, today didn't go as I expected, but it ended up being great. I parents, believe it or not, loved Sherlock. He acted very charming and respectable; even when my mother asked about children. I freaked out a little when she asked, but Sherlock kept a cool head and told her that we had a while until then.

"Well it was a pleasure to finally meet you Sherlock. You seem like a very fine man to be with our Bethany," my mother told him as we were leaving.

"Thank you, ma'am. I love your daughter, and promise to be good to her," Sherlock told her.

I was sort of surprised by his response, but then again wasn't. He was a good actor and proved it today. As soon as my parents shut the door, Sherlock returned to his usual frown. "Well, I thought that would never end." He said as we headed away from the house. "Nothing personal against your parents of course, I'm just not a people person."

I giggled at his statement and nodded. "I know but thank you for coming. I didn't know you could act so well."

"When I have to," he simply stated.

"I still didn't like lying to them though. My mother seemed happy now that she got to know you… Well the you that you showed her." I sighed with a frown. "I really don't want to tell them the truth because I know they will be extremely disappointed in me. I don't want to tell your parents either because they seemed so happy that you got married… I don't want to shatter the happiness they had…"

Sherlock and I got in the rental car we had, Sherlock driving. Sherlock didn't say anything about my comment but seemed to meditate on it. I knew he didn't like the fact that he was lying to his parents, especially when it's something his mother has been dreaming that he would do. I looked to Sherlock for a long time, studying every feature. He really was a gorgeous man, and nobody could convince me otherwise on that. He has a very sharp jawline that seemed to match the rest of his features. His hair wasn't super curly today like it was when I first met him, but he looked good either way. In all honesty, Sherlock was a good man. Yes, he was a bit odd, but I sort of liked that about him. He was different than any other man I have met, and it seemed life was never boring around him.

"You're staring," he stated.

"What if we actually got married?" I suddenly asked, and Sherlock nearly slammed on the breaks.

"What?" He asked, bewiled.

I spoke slower as if to make my point. "What if we actually got married? We wouldn't be lying to our parents, and we don't have to break your mother's heart. You're probably thinking I'm crazy and that I would rather marry someone for love, but in a sense I am. I love my parents and I would assume you love your parents. So, in a sense we are marrying for love."

"You're serious?" Sherlock stated more than asked.

"Yes, why would I joke about this? Think about it Sherlock; we already know that we can get past a fight, and we get along fine now, so what's the worst that could happen? I'm already sort of given up on finding someone I loved, and I do care about you in some sort of sense, so it's a very logical solution to a problem."

Sherlock looked at me a few times, still paying attention to the road of course, before speaking. "You? You are really willing to give up on finding someone to love to marry me? Just to make our parents happy?"

"Yes," I said as if we were having a normal conversation. "Are you?"

"Well, I never planned on getting married or finding someone to love. I don't think or feel like that."

I sat sideways so I was fully facing Sherlock. "Yes, but you are still sacrificing something. I mean, I would be there all the time and I would try not to get in the way of your cases or everyday life, but I will. I know I wouldn't really get involved in your cases, I would stay out of that, but your everyday life would be different."

"My everyday life started being different when John moved in and out, so I doubt it would be that much of a change," he told me.

"So, is that a yes?" I asked.

"Yes to which question?"

I gave a small smile along with a short sigh. "Sherlock Holmes, will you marry me to make our parents happy?" I asked.

Sherlock looked at me for a long while, debating. "What the hell, why not…" I smiled, happy that he was willing to do this to make our parents, mainly his mother, happy. "But," he added. "Not much is going to change. Do NOT try to change who I am."

"Of course, I won't…Sorry for before… except if you do drugs again, I will try to help and stop you from doing that," I said, leaving no room for debate. "John told me."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That's fair enough, you wouldn't be the first. But my food and sleeping habits will not change just because we get married. You will move in eventually, I presume."

"Yes, I can move all my things when we get back. My monthly contract for my flat is almost up anyway."

.

"WHAT?!" John, Mary, and Ms. Hudson screamed once we said that we were actually going to get married.

"It's to make our parents happy," I informed.

Ms. Hudson seemed to be glowing with joy. "Oh, happy day! This is wonderful!"

John looked to Sherlock, raising an eyebrow. "And? You're okay with this?"

Sherlock gave a simple shrug. "In all honesty, it won't be much different from when you lived here."

John looked to him for a while, then sighed. "Fair enough, but don't you dare hurt Bethany. Try to act how a husband should… And vise versa for you Bethany."

I smiled to John. "Of course." I smiled to Sherlock. "Sherlock is a good man, so I believe he would be a great husband."

Sherlock seemed sort of surprised, and even blushed a little, by my comment, but his face went to it's usual position after a few seconds. "Right… We'll get that squared away after your case…"


End file.
